


Crimson Flower

by marlboroblued



Series: Absence of Hope [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21581854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marlboroblued/pseuds/marlboroblued
Summary: Collection of writings revolving my Knight of Seiros Original Character and his brother, my Blue Lions Student Original Character. More information about my boys can be found at the notes I've written at the end!
Series: Absence of Hope [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555420





	1. Knight Ambition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorne's reason for joining the Knight of Seiros Order.

**"Tell me, why do you want to join our fold?"**

It was in the middle of a night. Pegasus Moon. Strong wind blew and the winter cold was harsher than ever. He was made to stand in the middle of The Courtyard with nothing to him but his tunic. He was warned beforehand that those who desire to become Knights will face hardships. However, he was ill-prepared for this. As he trembled and felt his lips crack, he glanced at the man wearing armor who was supervising his initiation.

**"I... It's... It has a-always been... m-my d-dream, S-Sir..."**

A childhood fantasy. A memory that a person carries as they grow older, another year to add to their one of many. The Captain of the Order was unconvinced. No one dreams of becoming a Knight, not if they knew what it meant to be one. The things they will have to let go off, the supreme obedience they must promise to keep. One who is in service naturally submits themselves to the Guidance of the Goddess and never to yearn for anything more. Only a fool would claim that Knights are to be idolized.

Before he could even follow up on his statement, a blow came upon him. It wrenched at him from the inside out, the pain of being knocked on the stomach swiftly. Thorne hunched over when air was forced to rise from his throat. Armored gauntlet made contact upon him as if his freezing condition wasn't insufferable enough. He gritted his shaking teeth together to endure the pain and discomfort.

 **"S-Sir... I,"** he coughed terribly, hurling over. The punch was done without mercy, he could tell. **"I was... I w-was saved by a K-Knight once and..."**

A kick to his sides immediately followed and he fell on the ground without grace. The Captain has heard of it before. They always say the same things, don't they? If for such lowly reasons Thorne desired to become a part of the Order, then they would have Knighted just about anyone who'd show up at their door without so much as a question.

But that wasn't the case.

The Captain was making him truthfully consider the depth of his decision. Is his desire to become a Knight that shallow? If so, he should just give up and forget about it all, consider a different career to pursue. The Knights of Seiros isn't a charity case and it is not a home for children to have their vanity entertained.

**"Go home, kid. You've just wasted my time."**

Thorne's body pressed against the snow filled ground, he curled at the pain. It was cold. It was hurtful. The treatment was far from what he expected, but if he were to give up now, then what? What will become of him? He cannot be another person's liability forever. If he's going to remain an orphan of the Monastery, the least he could do was carry his own weight.

He hated it, the helplessness coursing through his veins.

 _What is it that I haven't done yet_ , he pondered with all of his might.

As the Captain passed by him, Thorne clung to his leg with all the desperation possible for one person, with all the energy he had left.

**"Sir... I b-beg of y-you..."**

The Knight gave him a glare. If he did not truthfully care, he would've simply walked away and considered the initiation over, yet he stopped and waited for Thorne to say more. He wanted the boy to change his mind and prove to him that he wasn't a superficial person. They have enough of that within the Order. They don't need another count to the fold.

**"Sir... I want to die..."**

Wrenching his eyes open, the Captain lowered his hand to grab the boy, taking a fistful of his tunic and then raised him from the ground forcefully only to back him against the wall.

 **"What did you say?"** so repeated the Captain in terrifying disbelief.

Thorne raised his voice, his eyes burning with a stream of tears, so much that he had forgotten the cold. He stopped trembling. He stopped curling his body from the pain.

**"I want to die, Sir! I want to the die on the battlefield! I want to die in a way I will be honored as someone who has fought for something! I want to die and be remembered as someone who revered the Goddess without exhaustion! I want to die as a Knight to prove that even without a Crest, I will never bring shame to my father's name!"**

The Captain was surprised to hear such honesty from the boy, but horrified by his lack of self-preservation more than ever. It is not that he wants to become a Knight for anyone else. His reasons are beyond the common sentiments. It was never about helping the weak, never about protecting others, never about appearing good in the eyes of others save for one: his father. The boy desperately hopes to honor his father who acknowledges him not.

**"That I will not cause him any trouble beyond the only thing I cannot help with... That I am not completely worthless as he believed me to be... That my existence is not a burden after all..."**

It was only recently that he had learned that his father disowned him. At first he was told that he was sent to the Monastery at a young age in order to capitalize on the education he ought to receive since he was next in line to become a Duke, but he was officially removed from their house even before he learned how to walk and eat on his own. Becoming a Knight of Seiros is his only remaining grace.

 **"I want to die,"** he repeated, teeth clenched furiously. **"I want to die in a way that I will not detest myself so."**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •─────•♘ CHARACTER INFO •─────•
> 
> ☁ Thorne Lucius Wyndham.  
> ☁ 22 (Pre-Time skip) 27 (Time skip)  
> ☁ 12/5  
> ☁ 190cm  
> ☁ A Knight of Seiros.  
> ☁ He is the Captain of the Paladin sub-unit.  
> ☁ Has a long time rivalry with the Captain of the Wyvern sub-unit, Elaina Bennet, who also happens to be his childhood friend and sweetheart in some timelines.  
> ☁ He is also a part of the Officers Academy.  
> ☁ He offers lessons in horse-riding combat.  
> ☁ He graduated at the academy at the age of 18.  
> ☁ Previously a student of the Blue Lions House.  
> ☁ He is often mistaken as Dimitri within the academy due to some similarities in features, albeit he is much older and taller. Some others speculate that they might be relatives, which is not true.  
> ☁ A member of the House Wyndham from County of Charon, Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. He was the eldest son of Duke Twynam, but having possessed no crest of his own, he was sent to the Church of Seiros as a child.  
> ☁ During his time as a student, he was hoping that him and his classmate Elaina would pursue the same career upon the completion of their knighthood. Seeing that she had chosen to become a wyvern rider, he had decided to become a paladin for he is basophobic.  
> ☁ He had tried to escape from the Monastery when he was first brought there by his father. In turn, he fell down from a deep well with nothing accompanying him but his own fears. He was later saved by a Knight of Seiros and he promised to himself that he'd later become one.  
> ☁ He's very strict with self-discipline. He is always careful by not doing things that might make him walk on thin ice as Captain of the Paladins. He does not want to disappoint his superiors so he limits how he interacts with Students, People of the Church and Professors.  
> ☁ Thorne is well-respected by his subordinates, but behind his back rumors and telltales afloat. Often they wonder why a Crest-less man like himself is allowed to lead a Knight of Seiros sub-unit. He's aware of this, so he proves himself in battle all the damn time.  
> ☁ He is best described as a man that's strict when it comes to his duties as a Knight, but outside his obligations he is easy-going. However, some interpret him as intimidating due to his merciless training regime as Captain of the Paladins.  
> ☁ Known for his adoration for horses, he is often seen around the stables. He is also a dog-lover, though dogs in kind do not seem to favor him all that well. His armored gauntlets suffer from dog bite scratches and they suffer tooth loss in kind.  
> ☁ He is ambidextrous, a product of his self-critical personality. As a child he had trained himself to be able to equally carry out tasks with either hands so he is prepared for the possibility of losing an arm in battle.  
> ☁ When he was younger, he displayed talent for painting and singing. However, upon becoming a Knight, he decided that such passions are best forgotten. He merely focused himself on all things combat related but retained his love and doting nature towards horses and dogs.  
> ☁ He has no other ambitions but to become a Knight, so if you ask him about his dreams, he'd have nothing to say to you. However, he secretly desires a world wherein Crests do not dictate your importance in society, but he understood that it cannot be achieved so easily.  
> ☁ He loses his right arm during post time skip in the middle of a war. It was a result of taking a blow that was meant for one of his subordinates.  
> ☁ Has utmost respect for Sir Jeralt for acknowledging his efforts as a servant of the Goddess and his title as Captain of the Paladins in spite of Thorne's lack of Crest. Opinion towards Thorne is divided from the higher ups and to the lesser Knights, so he is very fond of Jeralt.  
> ☁ Formerly a squire of Sir Alois. He begged Lady Rhea when he was still a student to recommend him for Knighthood upon the completion of his studies under the Blue Lions House.  
> ☁ After five years, if he stays within the Monastery and doesn't give up his position as Captain of the Paladins, he will be promoted as Knight Commander of the Order. He is no longer shown wearing armor but leads them as its tactician.  
> ☁ Thorne will never ever change his mind about serving Rhea regardless of what he finds out about her or the reveal of The Church. So unless you're siding with Rhea, recruiting Thorne will be impossible. He'll either fall in battle or end his life than to be spared.


	2. In My Remains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My Knight of Seiros Original Character mourning for the Archbishop. Set during War Phase wherein Captain Thorne Wyndham of the Seiros' Paladins had been promoted as Knight Commander of the Order.

> _If there is one moment t_ _hat I will choose to always relive,_   
>  _It will be the day wherein I was first touched by your kindness._   
>  _A brilliant time unlike any other._ _You shone differently and without fault._

**"Let me go... Please! Please let me go..."**

His legs flailed about, desperation within his heart and mind. There was always a wall between him and the Archbishop. He does not respond to her orders directly, so few were the chances that he got to speak with her in person. But he always had paid her gazes in mind, how the curving of her lips didn't seem in tiding with the way her eyes blink. He questioned it in silence, he questioned it in the middle of a busy day. Perhaps now his inquiry had been answered, the entire stain of the Church unveiled.

The Knight Commander's hand, numb from gripping his spear, made attempts to be near. When all else failed, he forced his body to obtain a range, be closer than he had ever been. Yet they pull them right back, coercing him to leave now and have his life be spared.

Fools, he thought of them. There's no meaning to life if he cannot serve Lady Rhea any longer. Within these bloody halls, he's no more than a dead man struggling to keep the only thing he had left, and it's doing wonders to slip away from his hold.

**"Open your eyes, my lady... Please... open your eyes..."**

And he blamed himself for the entire Order's failure. If only he had not lost his arm at an earlier battle, then he'd been more competitive. He wouldn't have failed in preserving her safety. He wouldn't have made such a grave error.

In his face, he saw the results of his mistakes. Before him laid the tragedy brought about by his own poor choices. Lady Rhea was no more. Life itself already left her body. The pool of blood surrounding her had said the truth enough, and yet he denied it so fiercely. His devoted heart refused to accept this loss. How could he? It meant acknowledging his lack of strength, that he had been unworthy of serving her in the first place.

> _I will not grieve for the lives of those who have fallen due to my leadership._   
>  _If I had to grieve, it would be for one life and life alone._

**"No, do not leave us... Lady Rhea... please... Lady Rhea!"**

So many lives upon his shoulders. The death of his subordinates. The death of his comrades. The death of the students whom they once guided and protected. The death of close friends. Now, the death of the Archbishop. There's only so much guilt that one man could carry in his entire lifetime. He winced and slammed his armored hand on the ground while his screams pierced the ears of those who bore witness to agony. Along the loss of Lady Rhea came the loss of Sir Thorne's sanity.

As the rest of the Order made an attempt to help him stand up, collect him and tear him away from this sorrowful sight, he pried their arms away with all of his remaining strength.

**"N-No! Unhand me! L-Lady Rhea isn't dead! I'll stand by her till she wakes! Don't... Don't!"**

Try as he might to pray, she will not. That was the end of her reign. That was the end of Lady Rhea. He knew. He knew it better than most, but he could not accept it. He always thought that he'd perish knowing that he had served her well, but this? This is naught but a nightmare.

Sir Thorne wept, louder than he had ever done so in his entire lifetime. No one could say a thing to him for words only failed to console his sorry soul. With his mouth agape, he screamed the Archbishop's name all over again as if calling her from the afterlife, pleading for her return. Fate spares no kindness to Sir Thorne. It takes what it wants. Whenever he prayed to the Goddess, he spoke of other's well-being. Now, he hoped for one thing that was self-indulgent, and that was to keep Lady Rhea by his side. An impossible and blind wish.

He'd mourn all over again, his body trembling in both madness and sorrow. He cared not for anything else that transpired and will transpire. It was all over the moment he had failed to protect her. All over when she left the mortal realm. He's no longer a Knight, only a madman.

> _I will grieve for you in this life. I will grieve for you in others._

Sir Thorne bit his lip as his knees slumped on the floor, his only arm extended towards the direction of Lady Rhea's remains.

> _I will always choose you above everyone. I will always choose you above myself._


	3. Impetus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thorne and his brother Kallistus confront each other before the timeskip. Kallistus Medraut Wyndham is my Blue Lions Student Original Character! See notes at the end for more information about him. This chapter is heavily inspired by Far Cry 5 since it was my primary obsession when I wrote this, so if you notice that there's a similarity in quotes and portrayal, mind your business. That's between me and the Goddess.

Nothing else surrounded them but the Monastery fire. War is afoot. People clamored left and right. There is no mercy to be seen in every corner, no excuses to be made.

Kallistus was plastered on the ground, his hand pinned on the rubble with the burning tip of Sir Thorne's spear. He could not move it. He could not even feel it. However, everything else began to hurt. His body shivered at the pain he has to endure under the scrutinizing gaze of an older brother.

He has heard stories about him-- Paladin Captain Thorne Wyndham of the Seiros' Knights. That he's a good man. Chivalry and honor embodied. That he serves the Church well and is good-intentioned. Well, Kallistus will tell everyone a different story. A true story that remains neatly tucked under Sir Thorne's bed.  
  
 **"You did it. You had proven to me that the reports concerning your behavior were true."**

For how long did Sir Thorne feign to be blind towards it? Acted so madly in defense of his dearly brother despite finding proof? In a way, perhaps, he expected that Kallistus would come to him and remove the mask himself.

That wasn't what happened. The Knight had to catch the mouse fall for a trap. The thought alone made him furrow his brows in sheer disappointment. He continued to glance at his younger brother, beaten and bruised to the ground and no help will come for him.

 **"But now, you are all alone. You are weak. And we know what happens to the weak."**  
  
Shame fermented every corner of Kallistus' mind, and yet he resorted to laughing as blood dripped from the corner of his swollen and cracked lips. There's no joy to celebrate about, no humor to entertain, but whenever he looks up and finds Sir Thorne still believing himself to be righteous after all the blood that he had to spill in the name of the Church, how could Kallistus not see him as an absolute fool?  
  
 **"Hahahahahaha... hahahahahahahha... you don't know what you're fighting for, do you?"**

Free arm tried to repeatedly punch the spear that's keeping him on the ground. He's extremely weakened and not in any condition to expend more energy than he already has. Regardless, he didn't seem to know how to stop.

**"You judge me, judge the Empire, for the things we've done and plan to do. You look at me as if I'm crazy."**

And at this point, he might as well be. He cannot contain his sanity any longer. Kallistus doesn't know how Sir Thorne sleeps at night with all the body count upon his shoulders. How he could close his eyes and rest so soundly without being haunted by the faces of those he had killed, no, slaughter.

 **"You don't understand... you don't understand me and Edelgard because you don't believe. When you look at all of Fodlan and see the same things that I do, you would think differently."**  
  
Sir Thorne knelt upon the ground to grab Kallistus by the head and force the boy to look at him, his eyes strangely cold. It didn't have the same kindness everyone has always known. It was dark, lifeless and empty, as if it belonged to someone else.

**"I fight for the Church of Seiros. You have chosen to go against the Church. A choice that, mind you, you have taken for yourself. No one burdened you with this choice, brother. No one told you that you should side with the Empire and face me in the field. No one told you that you have to pretend to be a paragon for the Crestless. Did I ever said you could represent people like me?"**

He never asked to be saved. He never asked to have a better life. If anything, Kallistus and the Empire only ruined what little peace he could cherish for himself. Destroyed his sanctuary. Defiled the only place he had some semblance of a purpose.

 **"Did I ask for you to come and free me? You and the Empire think we're chained idiots who would cry and beg for Lady Rhea's approval."**  
  
Out of anger, Kallistus spat on Sir Thorne's face. Whore of Rhea. Harlot of the Church. Just exactly what she had done to make this man bend to Fodlan and back to protect her and shitty ideals? He is blind to the suffering of many, only Archbishop Rhea's. Lady Rhea this. Lady Rhea that. Even a dog has more free will than Sir Thorne.  
  
 **"I have spent my entire life searching for ways to understand why I had to suffer in your place! Why I had to carry the burden that was meant to be yours! They think you're so pure and admirable, but you are so severely prideful. You would rather watch the world burn and kill all that resides in it if it meant protecting the Archbishop! If it meant never admitting that you have chosen to stain your hands with blood for years for a wrong and harmful cause! Look at me in the eyes, Thorne, and tell me all about the people you have killed for her sake! HAHAHAHHA! I doubt you can even remember their names, let alone their faces. That's right. That's how ugly you truly are. You call yourself a weapon of the Church because you don't think for yourself. You're only employed to do what the Church thinks is right. You never had to question it. You never stopped to."**  
  
But of course. Why would he? The lives of others don't concern Sir Thorne much. If they do not side with the Church, then they named themselves an enemy. Isn't that matter so simple? Saving everyone means saving evil as well and Sir Thorne believes himself to be in the side of good. A little bit of violence is only necessary to protect such ideals.  
  
 **"Your fate is sealed, Kallistus,"** Sir Thorne wiped the spit off of his face with a handkerchief from his pocket. Kallistus is a rabid animal, very much like Vali, their other brother, and like with all animals, they cannot be expected to think logically, only by instincts. **"You will die by my hands,"** he announced confidently with a low tone as he plucked a dagger from his belt, baring Kallistus' neck before him. **"My brother, Kallistus, loved by few and feared by many. Misunderstood by all, except me."**  
  
Except him? Kallistus gritted his teeth together in undeniable rage. What a delusional man and a fucking coward. Sir Thorne doesn't want to kill him in battle. He wants to kill Kallistus in a way that he cannot fight back. A death that is far from acceptable. The type of slaughter only possible for a barbarian. The Knight doesn't believe him worthy of an honorable death.  
  
 **"You were not born a monster, Kallistus. You were merely a child when we have been torn apart. You were charming, sweet, full of innocence. From what you've told me, you were easily preyed upon."** Just how many had tried to use his brother to commit greater acts of evil? He will kill them as soon as he's done killing Kallistus. Sir Thorne thinks he deserves to die for he allowed himself to be used. Between them, Kallistus is the true puppet. **"You are not perfect and more often than not, you are not even good, but you are my brother."**  
  
Perhaps even a small amount of mercy can be granted.  
  
 **"And the Goddess is watching us. Hear her cry at the madness that is transpiring."**

Sir Thorne stood up, the heel of his boot upon Kallistus head as he raised his arms and gazed at the sky, basking in the glory of his faith, his faith that the Goddess will surely reward as she had always done so.

**"She will judge us on what we choose in this moment. You and me, dear brother, we are living in a world on the brink. Where every move, every slight, every injustice, reveals our path, reveals yours."**

Once more, he gave Kallistus a mournful look. How could he make his brother discern the importance of the Church? The importance of Crests? What it means when it is removed?

 **"It is you who do not understand. You should have been glad to be of use. Should have celebrated the fact that you were born with a purpose and never had to seek one."**  
  
Never had to look for it. Never had to question the meaning of one's life. Never had to sought means on how to devote it. Never had to wonder at night what it means to be alive but be without an ambition. What it means to exist in a world that deems a person immediately and unquestionably worthless simply from how they were born.  
  
 **"Where did that purpose lead you?"**

Kallistus retorted and he could not help but shed tears. He wasn't afraid of dying. He was afraid that he will die without having to return the suffering this world had given him. That he would perish under his brother's sick mentality. That all of these had been for naught. He would beg to be let go if it meant he could ascertain that he'd live, but like Sir Thorne, his pride dances and defeats everything else in his head.

 **"Your subordinates have been taken and will be slain or tortured, and it is your fault. Countless people have been killed, and it is your fault. The world is on fire, and it's your fault. Tell me, Thorne, was it worth it?"**  
  
Was it worth it, indeed.  
  
 **"When are you going to realize that the root of the problem can be solved if the Church is dismantled?"**  
  
With a kick on the mouth, Kallistus felt a few of his teeth come off with the pool of blood below his jaw. _Motherfucker._  
  
 **"When you first came here, I gave you the choice to walk away before it's too late."**

Because Sir Thorne is not a man devoid of compassion for enemies.

 **"You chose not to. In the face of the Goddess, I'm making you that offer one last time."**  
  
Kallistus can't give up yet. What will become his sister, then? What will become of Catriona who had been married off at a young age just because she bears a Crest? He can't. He can't stomach this. He can't stomach Sir Thorne at all. Where exactly did he go wrong with this plan? He had thought of it for years now and yet...  
  
 **"Save her... please..."**  
  
Even if he's to die here, he's hoping he could at least count on Sir Thorne for one thing. For one thing alone.  
  
 **"You're a sick son of a bitch, but before I kick the fucking bucket at least look for her. Catriona... Catriona Wyndham... she's somewhere at the Empire. I don't want her to be used for breeding."**

Oh, the possibilities. His sister didn't have to endure the iron hands of their parents and it was the only thing he's grateful for. However, he does not trust anyone in Fodlan. He does not trust that she will be cared for and treated with love. So, just for his sister, he will swallow his pride. He will swallow his pride before his most hated person.

 **"She's younger than me, she's your little sister, too!"**  
  
A little sister. Sir Thorne paused.  
  
So there was another Wyndham to the fold. Kallistus is begging for him to act out on it, like a dying man's desperate wish. That wish will be honored, but even so, Sir Thorne's ring of laughter would echo throughout the walls. Deranged and dramatic as it were.  
  
 **"That is what you are afraid of, Kallistus?"**

That she will be used for her Crest. Given to another House to procure an heir.

**"You have no understanding of the world. You, of all people, should raise your chest and be proud that our beloved sister will give birth to a better generation. A generation wherein people without Crests like myself do not have to exist. A world so dominated by Crests that we no longer have to survive in order for fools like you to realize your worth."**

He breathed and sliced Kallistus' neck with the dagger he had been firmly holding.

**"So what if she will be used for breeding? She should be honored to be of some use."**   
  
_Monster._   
_Sir Thorne is a monster._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> •─────•📖 CHARACTER INFO •─────•
> 
> ☁ Kallistus Medraut Wyndham.  
> ☁ 18 (Pre-Time skip) 23 (Time skip)  
> ☁ 5/12  
> ☁ 185cm  
> ☁ A student of the Blue Lions House.  
> ☁ Starting Class: Noble  
> ☁ Can be promoted to any Mage or Brawler leaning class.  
> ☁ A member of the House Wyndham from County of Charon, Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. He was the the second (actually third) son of Duke Twynam and is currently its Marquess. He is the heir of House Wyndham.  
> ☁ Minor Crest of Saint Cichol.  
> ☁ Efficient as a Mage, but prefers to punch things. Sometimes he'd enhance his fists for the joy of it.  
> ☁ He is very manipulative and cunning. Will pretend to be kind to you, but deep down he is a hateful man who scorns everyone.  
> ☁ He enrolled to Officers Academy in hopes of meeting his brother Sir Thorne Wyndham. He will behave as if he had done so because he wanted to treat his elder brother with kindness.  
> ☁ In truth, he blames Thorne for the heavy responsibility shoved towards him.  
> ☁ He was raised by his parents with the knowledge that their would be heir (Sir Thorne), left the House of his own volition to pursue Knighthood. Kallistus, being abused by his father, felt that Thorne is at fault for everything he had to endure as the heir with a Crest.  
> ☁ He is blonde by default, but having felt the need to separate himself from his father's influence, he dyed his hair blue, only a darker shade than Byleth's.  
> ☁ During War Phase, he will side with the Empire to dismantle the Crest system as Duke of House Wyndham.  
> ☁ He has two holes below his lips that resembles a serpent's bite. He wears a piercing in it. In truth, it's a result of having his mouth constantly sewed together by his Father as a child whenever he expressed himself openly.  
> ☁ Doesn't like wearing uniform so he's always on his lounge wear.  
> ☁ He'd often hurt himself in secret as a way to cope with his own traumas by tying himself up to things and pretend he can't free himself as to remind him his father can't reach him in the Monastery.  
> ☁ Kallistus has a little sister that he never talks about.


	4. Fragment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fragment of Kallistus' memories.

> _“Of pain you could wish only one thing: that it should stop.  
>  Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain.   
> In the face of pain there are no heroes.”_ ― George Orwell, 1984

It's the twelfth day of the Harpstring Moon.

Nothing else is new. The stench of urine still lingers. It is hard to tell whether it's his own or from the little friends that shared his cell. Maybe it has always been a mixture of both.

Is it morning? Is it evening?

One can never truly say in this place. There are no windows to tell him so, only the lit torches outside of his door gave him light. The piece of rock on the side helped him at least know today's date. He'd leave a scratch on the wall to remind himself everyday.

It synced with the meals he'd receive. His mother slipped him a single information once and he counted the duration of the hours until another meal is served to him since. Thrice a day he'd be under their mercy. He'd be given a plate just so he'd survive for long.

Outside of these cells, he's at least spared with some humanity, perhaps more than one could be grateful for. They'd pull him out from his rotting bed, grab him by the hair and drag him to the floor and have him bathe himself with cold water. He was not allowed leave until he's clean.

He has to be immediate about it, of course, unless he wishes to deal with the smell of burning flesh caused by candles. It is either that or bathe with melting wax. It should be an easy task were it not for the difficulty in scratching the stain away. It clings to him so.

He has to be presentable, they'd say. He has to curve his tongue and greet them with a smile most fitting for a nobleman. He has to be courteous, he has to be polite, he has to be with grace. He has to be strong.

It is his Name Day, after all.

_Happy Birthday, Kallistus._

* * *

It's the twelfth day of the Harpstring Moon.

The meal count became lesser. Before, it was thrice a day and at least delicious enough to compensate for his cell's horrifying state. It was what he looked forward to the most. It allowed him contact with either his mother or father.

It is lonely having no one to be with. He can hear nothing but his own demeaning thoughts and sometimes the rats beside him would squeak if he's not busy swatting them away. It's hard to sleep when they're trying to feast on you at every turn. They're growing in numbers, too.

Now, they'd only deliver a meal to him once, and it's always staple food of the day. Other times, he'd be lucky when they're not spoiled. Other times, he could not even tell what they tried to serve. He hopes that he'll receive something special. He is a loved son, after all.

And he is right. His Father came to him with a big platter, perhaps large enough for a week's serving. He cannot hide the happiness in his heart. To see Father again and with such a delightful meal.

He ate, and ate, and ate. He could not stop himself at all.

It's a luxurious meal. He can tell that his Father had wanted him to enjoy today. He is told, too, that a finest cook had come to prepare it to celebrate the House's heir.

Once done, his Father collected the plate.

Before leaving, a bloodied piece of collar is given to him.

Today...

He has had the finest meal in years.   
He has felt bliss at the end of his tongue.

Today, he has known that it will be memorable.   
Today...

Today...

Today...

It was his cat.

They served him his precious, beloved cat.

_Happy Birthday, Kallistus._

* * *

It's the twelfth day of the Harpstring Moon.

**"You will understand someday why such things are necessary. If you love me, you will find it in your heart to forgive. A natural leader will always have the strongest resolve to stand amidst adversary. This is naught but a trial.** **When I bring a melted piece of iron near your face, it is to remind you of what fear smells like. When I slice your heels with a blade, it is to teach you how to stand when your feet cannot be relied upon. When I starve you for days, it is to tell you to not be dependent of things that inspires pleasure and wants, so that you cannot be tempted, so that you cannot be seduced or bribed regardless of the hardships you face. Do you understand, Kallistus?"**

_I don't understand._   
_I don't understand._   
_I don't understand._

_Please stop!!_   
_Stop!_   
_I can't take this anymore!_

_Father!_   
_I don't..._   
_I don't.._

_It is painful..._   
_I can't breathe..._   
_Father... please..._

**"I am not raising you as my son, but Heir of my House. Someday, you will lead, and you must lead better than I. A strong man who can only be imprisoned by himself and nobody else."**

_I don't want this._  
Brother...   
Sister... 

**"Listen to your Father, Kallistus."**

_Mother, why?_

**"Direct your anger to yourself and become better until nothing else can hurt you ever again. This should be nothing to you by now. If I hear you speak again, I will put roaches in your mouth. Better yet, I should."**

_Happy Birthday, Kallistus._

* * *

It's the twelfth day of the Harpstring Moon.

The rats don't pester him anymore. They stopped coming to him, stopped biting his feet. The stench remained with him, however. It was the same, or was it worse? He couldn't tell what's in the air anymore.

Urine.   
Feces.   
Vomit.   
Blood.

Out of boredom he tried to pick them apart, but failed. He would do so after recalling some Fódlan stories in his head. It was childish, but it gave him some semblance of hope. What is this, if not a protagonist's trial? He will survive.

For he is an heir of his Father. Kallistus will carry everything he has shouldered on his own. Kallistus will pick up everything he has dropped. He will be a hero, he convinced himself while teeth sank on rat flesh. It's the only warmth he can rely on at this point.

He'd gag sometimes and drop it, only to pick up a fresh one and drink its blood. His throat is dry, he cannot even cry. Just something, something to keep him alive.

Come to think of it, it isn't so bad.

At least, it doesn't compare to having to eat his own ▀▀▀▀ or his ▀▀▀▀.   
It's nothing like drinking his own ▀▀▀▀ or biting at his own ▀▀▀▀.

This is nothing.   
This is nothing.   
It's just... It's just... ▀▀▀▀.

_Happy Birthday, Kallistus._


End file.
